Not Too Amused
by Diskobox
Summary: Excerpt: This isn't the path that I'm supposed to follow, I know, but I can't help it. My decisions can kill me later. For now, I'm just comfortable enough to not be amused by this Carth Onasi . . . or by his expertise in this situation.


DISCLAIMER: _Obviously, I own nothing. _

A/N: _Normally, I stick to one fandom for a very long time. It's hard for me to fall in love with video game storylines, as well . . . but I really love this game. The characters are great. This fic is probably very played out, as I'm sure other people have written similar things, but I just enjoyed writing about something different for a change. If you can't tell from my fanfiction, I tend to like strong heroines who are also weak at the same time. Love makes the best of us scared, and I hate it when people don't recognize that.

* * *

_

_NOT TOO AMUSED_

_

* * *

_

I'm not too amused with this turn of events, I will tell you that. I'm not too amused with my hands at the back of his neck, with his hands on my lower back. I'm not at all amused with my mouth on his and my eyes being closed as I kiss him. This isn't the path that I'm supposed to follow, I know, but I can't help it. My decisions can kill me later. For now, I'm just comfortable enough to not be amused by this Carth Onasi . . . or by his expertise in this situation.

Months before, we were perfectly fine. None of this romance business, I can tell you that. Not at least the kind of deep romance I was feeling now. No, we were on our mission and we were going along smoothly. I would snip at him at the proper moments, or I would talk to him during our long travels between destinations. Bastila thought this was all 'dangerous'. I asked her to elaborate, but she never did. I had a feeling that it wasn't anything to do with our mission, so I kept to myself around her. Carth and I stopped talking for awhile after that.

I remember standing out, looking over the sea on Manaan. Mission and Zaalbar were there, of course, both of them staring at me. I hesitate with an answer too often, and I remember fearing that she was getting to the point where she could tell. My mind was clouded, and they both knew it. I could see the glint of amusement in her eyes, and I felt agitated. My hand gripped the rail as I turned to stare out into the sea. I heard her voice over the din of the rushing waves, repeating that same stupid phrase.

"I'm not blind, you know," she said, both playfully and somewhat annoyed.

"You're only as blind as I want you to be." I sighed, "I don't want to talk about this right now. We have an important task at hand, and your prods are only making this take longer."

I heard Zaalbar growl, but I ignored it. I only choose to listen to him when he is an asset to our missions. Then, I knew what he had said, even if I didn't take the time to really listen. He'd just be repeating Mission, as if he's her puppet and not just her friend. I turned to face her once more, trying to relay my emotions enough not to yell. My voice came out in the same soft tone I had started using after my training.

"You can stop staring at me right now. We're done here, so we should be moving on."

With a smirk and a click of her tongue, Mission just turned and went to the ship. I followed her on board, Zaalbar behind both of us. I can remember the way that I smiled at Carth, who had been waiting near the entrance for our return, as I went to the cockpit. I let my lips start out at a smirk, then form into a full grin. I did that with him often, and normally it was just a way to get him to follow me. I can readily say that it always worked, even if he was angry with me.

Mission noticed that as well, of course. She noticed it all the way back when we met her on Taris. As soon as all had been said and done, after we had gotten what we needed there and were about to leave, she told me about her findings in private. I left my hole and opened up slightly, which was a mistake. From that day one, she would bug me tirelessly. The old man and the young, strong Myra . . . together in her eyes already. I felt like a little girl then, but as the days went by with no talk of it, I let it go. That was when I forgot about the romance, and I didn't let it get to me until Bastila started to make her own remarks.

On Dantooine, of course, during my training, I would sometimes start to think about Carth. It had been so long since I was able to talk with him, and I hated that thought. Of course, Bastila would sense my unease and try to keep me on course, so I never really had much time to dwell. When Carth got his chance, he began to make his little remarks. I felt like someone lit a fire under me, causing me to trip up and lose it. I didn't understand him anymore. Why would he get so sore for being left out? Wasn't he, being older and more mature, above all those feelings? I was honest with him, of course, but things didn't end as I had hoped. Over time, though, after he opened up to me, things like that were forgotten. I was falling in love, I can see that now, but then I was too wrapped up in the Council's task to worry about Carth that much.

After that trip to Manaan, we had prepared ourselves to head to Korriban. We were caught, I remember. With the stupor of the action and the diminished hole that had been my memory, things were so difficult. Carth . . . he had been too strong for me. I loved him in that moment, and I hated him at the same time. Not so much him as a person, but him as a thought of a lover. What would I bring to this man, this man who had lost more than I could know? I had nothing for him, I still feel that way, and I have nothing to gain to give him. We had fought, we had conquered that damn ship nearly, and Carth had gotten his revenge. I didn't like seeing him that way. I was always afraid of what he would become, even when he told me his plans at first. Those words he had used tugged at my heart, and I felt frightened of him for the first time.

The Bridge, the yells, the blaster fire . . . I was stunned, but in full attack mode as usual. Bastila fought with her same graceful, but reckless, precision. I was intent on keeping Carth from losing himself, but it was in vain. Saul fell like a fool, and Carth was so fired up. His eyes were burning with power, his arms still out, as if ready to kill Saul another time. I remember trying to calm him somehow, without words. It didn't work. Saul's dying words seemed to pierce through me, even though I didn't hear them. Carth's face had fallen, his arms limper. Bastila knew all about it, but I was still lost.

Malak spoke evenly once we found him. I was his former master . . . my heart was ripped in two then. The look on Carth's face as I struggled to prove my new allegiance left me in a strange sort of sadness. I hadn't counted on that, I remember. Malak laughed in my face and ran, leaving me to chase him and seek more answers. Bastila sacrificed herself for us, and I remember being jealous of this. Carth was impressed by her actions, but he was repulsed by me in my most noble standing. Apologies would get me nowhere, I felt this from him. With an angry sort of passion, he refused to talk about it until we were out of that foul place. I wanted to hold him down and yell for my redemption, for my truth and for my want of his trust. I never could do that.

The return to the ship was devastating. Bastila being gone left me torn between wanting to continue the mission and wanting to rescue her. Where was there for me to go? Carth wasn't talking to me at all. I felt doom sweep through as we flew out of the hangar, our trip to Korriban feeling infinitely longer than any I had ever taken. Mission was sympathetic then, as if she knew something had happened. Jolee, the foolish old man he was, knew in an instant. As if I had told him my life's story, he gave me an understanding look and grimace. I wanted to punch him in the gut when he started making suggestions, but I wasn't angry enough to.

We met with the group once we landed. I stood in the middle, hope swelling within my chest as Carth began to speak. Having not heard his voice in so long made me hang on every word, as if he was telling more than just a simple report. They all knew it, Bastila was gone. I was Revan. Malak was my apprentice and he had tried to kill me. Mission didn't care, neither did anyone else, I felt. Carth looked around in amazement, but said nothing. When we got out to Korriban, we received word of his son. I could feel the end coming as he refused to talk about me and about Dustil as well. We moved on, and I felt colder than ever.

The quest was coming to a close soon, and I felt tired, alone, and afraid. I hated those feelings. People were constantly telling me how strong I was, how loving and how caring . . . and I hated it. They couldn't see my emotions like they should have been able to. I was playing leader, being there for them and listening to them, but I had no room to let anyone in. I remember sneaking into the cockpit at night to find Carth asleep in the pilot's chair, as if he couldn't be around anyone else. The men's dorm room always remained closed, that was how I first suspected it. I saw it open once when I was going to the refresher station. I went to the cockpit to be alone myself after that, only to find Carth asleep.

He was so lovely asleep. I couldn't see his eyes, but I could look at him unnoticed. I did this for days, just looking in on him every single night. It was weird at first, but I grew to need to be there soon. He never brought anything to keep him comfort. No pillows or blankets either. To see him sleeping there, in his night things, arms bare and legs propped up . . . it was reality to me. This was not my strong and handsome Carth Onasi. This was normal, human, angelic Carth. The cold cockpit was still no match for him, his body probably warm from all of the fire trapped within him. I often felt like waking him up, just to see the look in his eyes that I missed so much. Tasks and the fate of the galaxy left me when I watched him. I was at ease, and I think that was why I did it so much.

Tonight was the night he had caught me. Tonight was the night that all my amusement and gentle feelings for him ended. I was lit, and I was burning with some weird sort of passion now. The talk . . . it was all so strange and so enticing. I walked in to see him in the chair once more, only it was different. Tonight, his feet were not propped up. This night, his feet were planted firmly on the ground, the chair swivelled around so that he faced me when I entered. His arms were still bare and crossed over his chest, his face belying the hatred he had developed and revealing a smirking sort of interest. I blushed and turned to leave, but he stopped me.

"Don't leave," he said softly.

I turned and looked at him dead on, my heart racing. "No, I shouldn't be here . . . I should go to sleep . . ."

Carth stood quickly, as if he had been restraining himself from doing so. "I mean it, talk to me. I know what you've been up to, and I just had the courage to face you. If you have something to say, tell me. I can't think less of you, Revan."

"I'm not Revan, Carth," I said as my heart fell into my stomach. "I'm Myra, and you know that."

"I _do_ know that, but I don't believe you. I knew this would happen, and I can't bring myself to . . . Why should I trust you anymore?"

I wanted to run at him. These violent feelings were tearing me up, and I wanted to just give into them. How dare he accuse me of lying in a state like this . . . I was so vulnerable, I was so weak compared to him. Bold as I should have been, I couldn't yell at him. I knew that was what he wanted. Whether or not he told me so, I knew he couldn't hate me. He would search forever for reasons, but come up empty handed. He wanted me to be a woman, hapless and angry . . . everything I was told and trained not to be. Memories, that was what he wanted to know about. The only memories I cared about now all seemed to be tied to him.

"Carth, I can't change your mind," I said calmly. My hands were shaking. "I only wish that you would try to work past this. I told you how I felt, and how I no longer want to be seen as something I don't even remember."

Carth shook his head, mouth tightened as he looked away from me. "I feel lied to. I feel betrayed . . . I hate this, you know. I hate feeling this way _again_. I hate anger, I hate all of these damn feelings you make me feel."

"Hate it, Carth. Hate it all, please," I said pleadingly. "Hate me if you have to, just get over this distrust you harbor. If I knew that telling you the same thing over and over would help, I would follow you around for days trying to make it right. You don't need my words, I know you don't."

I was getting through to him, I would swear it. His arms weren't crossed anymore, and his eyes were slowly opening from their narrow view. My mind was so confused, but I held onto watching him slowly think of my words. The words he shouldn't have needed to hear me say. Older, wiser, these seemed to be a joke to me now. I was younger, and on top of that, I could barely remember the experiences that should have matured me. I didn't feel like I knew better, but I did feel calm suddenly. Carth looked at me now seriously.

"Making an effort . . . you make me feel like a coward. A man shouldn't do this to anyone, especially not a woman. You are right, you don't remember your former life. I shouldn't rush you into making some sort of life come back. Honestly, I don't want that life to come back. It's only a way to excuse this hurt I'm feeling."

Honesty coming from him meant the world to me in that moment. I stepped toward him, but not too close. I couldn't make sudden movements yet.

"I didn't mean to betray you. If I had known all of this, I would be different. I couldn't feel bad about hurting you if I was who you think I am. That being, that _creature_ . . . she's dead in my mind."

Carth looked slightly desolate, but still impassioned. "It's hard for me to give this up, it's hard to be in . . . It's just hard, is what I mean."

I hold my smile back, looking at him calmly. "You don't have to hide anything."

"I still do," he says. "I can't tell you anything yet. Not until I ask you something."

"What's that?" I ask, expecting the worst.

Carth's mouth works to form the words. He's tripping over them in his own mind. I can tell this from the way he averts his eyes from me. He's scared of his own confrontation, and he's scared of my reaction. I let him go own at his own pace. He'll get it out, I trust in that.

"I just want to know how it is that you can take all of this so . . . lightly. Does it hurt you to know who you are as much as it's killing me?" He looks at me straight now.

I detest it, but I feel anger rise up in me. "What makes you think that I'm taking this lightly? Just because I look calm and all of that . . . I'm _not, _okay. I'm not taking this without that hurt. I hate myself because of this!"

My yell shocks him. Carth is looking stunned. I can tell he wants to say something, but I don't let him. I want to get it all out, for the first time I have the opportunity and I want to take it. Words spill out of my like they never have, like I have never let them. My face flushes as I scream and cry all at once.

"I'm not who I was before, I just can't be that person! I'm not a tyrant, I'm not a traitor, I'm not your goddamn enemy! She died and I'm left to be standing here with you, trying to prove that I have changed! Does it even make a difference?"

The next thing I knew, he was holding me. The next thing I knew, he was whispering something that I couldn't hear over my own sobs. I think sometimes that the Jedi conceal their lust, love, hatred, anger, and sadness just so that they never have to go through living for real. I think that bottling it up is what gives them a purpose. I'm not going to will myself to calm down right now. I need this, I was dying without it. Screw the Code . . . in this moment I was pissed, I was devastated. It was working, though. More so than any repeated phrase and serene tone could.

"If I had my way, I would tell you everything, Carth. If I had my way, I wouldn't be anything you hated. Tell me you care, Carth. Tell me this is what you want, please."

He stroked my hair then, and said sincerely. "I don't want this. I just want you."

Mistakes I made were always big. Being what I used to be, I knew that little things weren't even going to happen to me. I was told that loving wasn't good for the tranquil mind I was tied to. I was told once that who I was made for me what I wanted, just because it was calm and even . . . something everyone wanted. They said I would benefit more than be broken down. How wrong could so many people be? I don't know for sure anymore, but all I know is that my remembrance faded into my reality as the moments collided, as I stand now with my mouth on his.

Carth Onasi, the only one who never truly hated my emotions. The only one who could turn his mind and learn to relish in them. With his strong hands around me, my amusement faltered. I was in love, I was passionate and animated. My slim hands ran through his hair as I stood on my toes, his grip supporting me with ease. Mouths parted, eyes closed, love blended in a surreal mix of fervor that neither of us could ever take back.

No, I'm not too amused by this turn of events. I can say with all honesty that I will never be amused by Carth Onasi again. Humor and delicate flirts are beyond me. My eyes are opened, my identity is washed away as I fall deeper into love with him. Humbled, I stand. My path is turning as I complicate our mission, and I love that. Desperation is countered by measures upon measures of experience, and I'm more mature than he is now. My decisions may kill me later, but I am planning out more than death as I kiss him. His immediate reactions could make me into that bold new Jedi, like that old fool Jolee even. And still . . . I'm not too amused by Carth's precision in this situation . . . I'm amazed and intrigued by it. Our mission is still there, and this event is closing slowly as I pull my mouth from his.

"You're crying," he says, wiping a tear from my face. "I hope this isn't a bad thing. I'm not good with crying women."

I smile at him, "You don't have to be good, because I'm not crying. I'm getting rid of more than sadness."

I hear footsteps, but I don't let him go. Mission enters the cockpit triumphantly, nearly waking the whole ship up with her screams of delight. Children, I wonder about them sometimes. I'm reserving that silly feeling that is amusement for them. I'm reserving all of that humor in me for play and plight now. Of course, the love stuff is reserved now as well. And I'm sure we all know where that is going.


End file.
